Sometimes I feel like I’m an emotional ball of nerve endings waiting to be poked by a not so gentle stick. There is most likely a psychological term for this feeling. Even so, I am not yet willing to fork out the necessary copay to label my neurosis. So for now, I use less scientific sounding terms to describe this frequent state of unease. Sometimes I call it worry, fear, or anxiety. Other times I label it Seattle sports fan syndrome.
The symptoms are rather straight forward. I get this low grade feeling which partners with my gut. Unease suddenly becomes the canvas for my thought life. I begin to feel far too vulnerable; as if every interaction, every word, even every thought has the potential to crush me. My exterior walls seem paper thin, my resolve feels less than resolute, and my heart becomes. . . well it becomes faint-hearted. It’s as if one hurtful word is enough to make me cave in on myself.
I know feelings are not the same as reality. However, the reality is these feelings can become rather intense. Like an uninvited guest, vulnerability creeps into my conscience and becomes the rhythm of my life. My exterior demeanor may look fortified, but my interior is frantically preparing for retreat. In other words, inside this strong man lurks a frightened little boy!
I’m well aware of the protocol for such thoughts. It is not appropriate to share weaknesses in polite society. I might possibly be judged or labeled if I let people see the rough edges of my existence. My words could even be used against me!
When I was a young man, I was sick for a very long time. During my sickness, I began to assess what made life worth living. I began to look at the silly inconsistencies of our culture. I started to realize that, for the most part, people don’t talk about what actually terrifies them. Instead of looking at real issues of our own mortality, we tend to fill up our lives with endless, meaningless trivia.
What truly troubles our soul is seldom addressed within pop culture existence. Consequently, we suppress our important fears and push them into the far reaches of the soul.
When I was young and my body was sick, I began to realize the foolishness of such pointless living. As a result, I made a pact with myself. Instead of trying to suppress my fears or hide from the unknown, I would try my best to live a life of discovery. I’d stop pretending that I didn’t hurt or that I didn’t feel incredibly fragile.
If you look up “weak” in a thesaurus, you’ll find two streams of synonyms. One group of shared words imply lack of character, resolve, or fortitude. These are words such as defective, faulty, deficient or inadequate. Sometimes weakness comes with such accusations. Inevitably, we often hide this form of weakness out of shame.
However, there are other synonyms for “weak.” Words such as delicate or imperfect. These words imply an awareness of our humanity. They point to the fact that no matter how strong we feel, we are still very weak! Weakness is not so much a failing as it is the reality of our daily existence.
With this in mind, I try my best to share my weaknesses with others. I have a strong suspicion I am not alone in my “inadequacies.” In fact, I think my confessions might possibly comfort some of my “substandard” readers.
Feelings come and go, they don’t define reality. Even so, all of us face thoughts, situations, and events that shine light on our glaring imperfections. It is important to remember this too is perfectly normal. It is a sign each of us is indeed human.
So don’t despair and don’t suppress your desperation. God knows what you need and he is not ashamed of who you are and what you feel. God will not turn away from an honest confession of need. At least that’s what this frequently scared little boy thinks.
Doug hosts Live from Seattle with Doug Bursch on 820 AM KGNW.
Douglas Bursch is the author of Posting Peace: Why Social Media Divides Us and What We Can Do About It. He also hosts The Fairly Spiritual Show podcast.